


Old Scar

by AliasZero



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Angst, Angsty Schmoop, Bottom Sam, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Top Dean, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 01:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1761521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliasZero/pseuds/AliasZero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 8 Au-ish, where Dean suffers from the pain of an old wound. <br/>Sam thinks that he is the reason that Dean was hurt in the first place and he has beaten himself up for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Scar

Those sons of bitches really knew how to enjoy life, Dean thinks to himself while he is indulging in his first hot shower in the bathroom of the bunker. And the almost burning water and its strong pressure are good for his aching old wound. Dean shifts his weight from his left leg to his right, letting the hot water hit right on the long scar on his left knee. All those rough years living on the road, changing from motel to motel, and sometimes even sleeping in the Impala, did no good to this wound. It always aches when the weather starts to get wet and damp. And apparently it hurts more and more when years went by. Dean feels helpless like an old man sometimes when the aching hits him real bad that his knee shakes in pain. But now that they can use this bunker of The Men of Letters as their base, he starts to feel that he may suffer less from this old wound, and Sam can also worry about him less. Because they have bigger fish out there to make their plate a little bit too full.

Reluctantly, Dean turns off the hot water and steps out to get changed. His knee feels much better than before. Now he does not have to pretend he is alright in front of Sam because it is a freaking hard task to do, especially when he knows that Sam still thinks he is responsible for this aftermath of his injury which happened in like a million years ago.

Dean shows up in front of Sam right before he starts to be suspicious of the length of his showering time. He can tell Sam is observing him as his brows are creased in that way Dean knows best about. So he steals the first line in order to shut Sam up from whatever he has to say, “Man, you know what, the water pressure in there is AWESOME.” Dean even exaggerates the whole picture using a very comical tone.

Sam tilts his head slightly and his brows relax, a faint smile appears at the corner of his mouth. Dean is glad that his tactic works. “So you uh… continue to check out the library, ok? I’m gonna take care of my room.” Dean is truly excited about his room because he never had one since he started hunting with Dad—and that actually means his entire life.

Dean sits down on his new bed awkwardly slow, pursing his lips and clenching his teeth to make sure that not a single note of groan escapes his throat. He now wishes he was still in that shower of hot water. He puts his big palm on his knee and rubs the scar hiding under his jeans. Damn this humid weather, he curses in his mind.

“…Dean?” Dean almost falls off his bed when Sam suddenly pops up at his bedroom door. He quickly takes his hand away from his knee and forces his eyes to meet with Sam’s.

“Look, Sam,” Dean points his right index finger up before Sam utters a word and he presses his left hand on his mattress, “it’s memory foam.” A broad smile spreads across his face when his palm sinks into the bed and slowly bounces back, “It remembers me.”

He half hopes that if he continues to act like an eight-year-old who gets his own first room, Sam will drop the sore subject that has been tangling with their relationship all these years. But Dean knows immediately that he fails miserably when Sam lets out a soft sigh.

“Enough of fooling around, Dean.” His dark puppy eyes fill with concern and guilt, “It’s hurting again, isn’t it?” Sam walks across the room and kneels down beside Dean. Gingerly, he puts his hand on Dean’s left knee. A shiver goes through Dean’s spine, but he tries not to show it.

“It’s ok, Sammy.” Dean’s voice becomes deep and low, and the words come out soft like a murmur.

“No, it’s not. It’s never going to be ok.” Sam starts to rub Dean’s knee using his right hand. His body warmth transfers from his palm through the denim to the scar. Knowing exactly where the scar is, Sam increases the pressure on it and Dean cannot help but moans a little.

“Sam.” Dean calls his younger brother’s name again, this time putting his hand on Sam’s.

Sam looks up and their eyes meet. In that split of a moment, memory pours out from the brothers’ minds.

≈≈≈≈≈≈

John was always more protective about Sam than he was to Dean. So even when Sam turned eighteen, he was still not allowed to participate in every hunt. John would drop him off in a motel and drove away with Dean to God knew where for a hunt if he thought that the case was more dangerous. Sam hated that a lot, not only because it meant he and Dean would be apart from each other for an unknown period of time, but also because he did not want Dean to be the one facing the danger alone while he was like a sitting duck rotting in a distant small town.

But that time it was different. It was one of the last few days of fall that year. Sam knew something was up. Dean was acting weird. He was edgy two weeks before John told them about this hunt. He would not let Sam get too close to him even though John was not exactly looking. He was careful whenever their skin or hands touched and once he even jerked away when their shoulder bumped against each other.

“What the hell is wrong man?” Sam was so frustrated at one point he yelled at Dean without thinking.

And Dean just shook his head, “Nothing Sammy,” running his palm over his face.

Sam was too angry to care when John told him that there was a hunt. The town was five hours away from where Sam would be staying. He just huffed indifferently. If he has been more observant and less blinded by anger, he could have seen the reluctance that Dean was trying to convey to him through his sad green eyes. But instead, when they grabbed all the stuff they needed and headed for the door, Sam just mumbled “Bye”, not even looking at Dean.

The winter cold was already lurking around the country a lot earlier than usual. Sam jumped up from the bed and watched the Impala pulled out of the motel’s parking lot. He needed to use all his strength to hold back the urge to break everything in the motel. He should have forced Dean to take the scarf. He should have pulled him into a hug, not caring if Dean would pull away. Dean could call him a pussy or a school girl but at least Sam could have his warmth lingering on his chest. And yet Dean was gone. He did not even pat Sam on the shoulder like he would all those time ago. He did not understand. What went wrong? Did he do something wrong? Sam buried his face in his hands, trying so hard not to break down and cry like a baby.

¶

“So Dad was not sure who that ghost may be?” Sam could not help but raised his voice a little.

Trying to make himself a little more comfortable on the hard motel bed, Dean could feel his brother’s impatience on the other side of the phone. He licked his lips, trying to live up to the standard of a professional liar. He knew John was staring at him with a burning gaze from behind. “Look, Sam, we are trying all we can to finish off this case quick, all right? I… I want to come back to you as fast as possible too.” Dean almost whispered the last line into the phone in hope that John would not hear it.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, a habit whenever he was anxious and worried. “You sure don’t need my help in this?”

Dean glanced quickly at John’s direction and said, “No, Sammy. Dad and I got this. It’s just… it may need to take some time longer.” He added the last line helplessly.

Suppressing all the emotions, Sam took a deep breath. He wanted to be with Dean so bad. He almost forgot he was mad at him for being too distant. It was not normal to take them so long to wrap up a case like this. There was this strange feeling building in his chest that he could not convey in words. “Alright,” he said finally, “You be careful, Dean. And call me if you have a breakthrough.”

“Sure. I… I will call you again. Stay safe, Sam.” Dean swallowed “I miss you” in the last second and hanged up.

“Sam said…” He began when he looked up again to John just to get cut off half way. “I don’t care what he said.” With a sharp glance, John Winchester silenced his eldest son and headed for the door. “Now if you will move your sorry ass, we are not done for the day.” Dean swallowed and followed John out of the room.

¶

The second phone call came at the end of the third week since John and Dean were gone. It was in the middle of the night and Sam, being annoyed by the buzzing sound of his phone that came a little more urgent that it used to be, rose from his warm bed and walked across the room to pick it up.

“It’s three in the morning, Dean.” The words came out a bit harsher than Sam intended to, but he was damn sleepy so he just let it slide.

“Ye…yea, I know Sammy, sorry.” Sam’s whole body tensed up when the voice that came through the phone carried shallow breathing and noisy panting.

“Dean…? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“No.” Was all that came out before Dean took a long deep breath. He continued in his coarse voice, “There isn’t much time to explain, Sam… I need you—I need you to be with me on the phone… You hear me?”

Sam could hear that Dean pushed out the words through clenched teeth. He stomach dropped, this is no good, he thought to himself. “So did you and Dad take care of… of the spirit? Burn the bones?”

After what seemed to be a forever silence, Dean said, “…No.” Another short and unrevealing answer that made Sam’s rage boiled in his chest. “D-Damnit!” But Dean’s sudden cursing pulled Sam back to reality. There was no time to be angry at Dean.

Dean was hurt. He must be. “Dean. Be honest with me, okay? How bad was it? Where is Dad?” Without realizing, Sam gripped the phone so hard that his knuckles turned white.

“There is a reason I called you, Sammy.” Dean avoided answering the questions and he was panting even faster now. “I need you to stay with me… Your voice… your voice can keep me conscious. You promise to do that, Sammy?”

“Wait, what? Dean at least you have to tell me what’s going on?” Before Dean could utter another word through the phone, Sam heard what seemed to be the motel room door being pushed open hastily. The next thing he knew is that Dean must have put the phone under the bed sheet or a pillow because he heard the muffled noise when the phone was being pushed away from Dean. He thought he heard Dad’s voice, though it was distant and unclear.

“…ready? ...you…bite down…” Sam pressed his ear so hard on his phone until it hurt but he could only make bits and pieces of their voices. “Yeah...” “Ok… on three…three…two…”

Dean’s horribly painful scream tore apart the cold air and pierced through Sam’s ear and for a moment Sam though his heart was being ripped apart.

“Dean? Dean! DEAN!!!” The loud painful groans came like cold waves that made Sam shivered. He shouted helplessly into the phone in hope that Dean could hear him. He was dying to know about what was going on the other side.

Sam could hear the catapults inside the motel bed bouncing, as if something heavy fell on it and was rubbing violently against the bed sheet. Dean’s groans were even clearer now. Sam could also hear John’s voice commanding, “Stop twisting around you idiot! Stay still!!” Sam has never ever been so scared in his life. What is happening to Dean? Why haven’t John sent him to the ER already? All kinds of crazy ideas were swarming across his mind and all he could hear and feel was Dean’s pain. The groans slowly turned into moans and grunts in a time that seemed like forever to Sam. His eyes were watery and he was now begging into the phone.

“Please… please Dean… pick up the phone… Dean…” He wanted someone, anyone to tell him what happened and what to do, but all he got was more of Dean’s painful and noisy panting.

At last, a weak and thin voice passed through the phone. Sam gasped and almost choked on his own words.

“I could hear you yelling like a school girl… Sammy.” When he finally heard his name, Sam’s stomach felt like it went through ten rounds of roller coaster. All his body hair stood up as he concentrated so heard to listen to Dean’s weak and broken voice.

“Sa-say something… S-Sammy…” Sam licked his dry lips and swallowed his saliva a couple of times to prevent himself from bursting into tears.

“How bad is it?” He must sound so stupid right now as he was fighting with all his emotions. But he needed to stay strong. Whatever that was that Dean just been through, he needed to be there for him.

He heard a soft but familiar chuckle. Dean breathed heavily into the phone before he found his words, “Not good, but I will live.”

“Dean, I…” I so wanted to be fucking there with you. Sam was choking in tears already.

“Sh-Shhh, Sammy. Don’t start.”

Sam nodded vigorously even though he knew that Dean could not see it.

“Just…keep talking… Sammy… I need to hear your voice…” Sam heard Dean moving on the bed sheet, trying to make himself slightly more comfortable, given his agony and pain.

“Where… where’s Dad?” Sam felt like the back of his eyes are burning.

“Gone, af—after he took care of…me…” Dean’s voice was so distant, and Sam was drowning in every word Dean said. He was angry that Dean would not spill anything and he was hurt because Dean was hurting. Dean’s broken and panting voice was his silver lining in the sea of worry and love. He wanted to slip through the phone and be right there for Dean. He hated himself. He hated whoever or whatever that did this to Dean. He hated John.

“Look, Dean.” Sam raised his voice, “I can be there before noon once I get hold of a car, any car.”

“No, Sammy, no.” Dean panted. “It’s alright. I just… I’m just gonna have some shut-eye…and it will be fine.” He inhaled painfully before he continued, “If you show up suddenly, Dad will just finish what’s left of me, and you also. So, no.” He added sternly.

“But Dean! You are hurt so bad and Dad simply ran off again like that and I… I…” I can’t stand being so far away from you. Sam was literally choking in tears now. He did not care if Dean thought of him like a whiny teenage girl right now because his heart felt like it was smashed into pieces.

But Dean called him neither, “Sammy… Sam… I’m sorry I called.”

Sam could bear it no more. He wanted to hang up. If he could not be with Dean, he did not want to stand here like a statue listening to his apology.

“You should get some rest.” Sam said finally, in a calmer voice.

“…yeah.” Dean did not fight with his suggestion, or it was simply because he did not want to fight with Sam at this moment. “Stay safe, Sam. I will call again.”

“ _You_ stay safe, Dean.” And he hanged up.

Sam could not get back to sleep after the phone call. He flung his cell on the table hard and collapsed face down onto his bed. He wanted to cry but he could not. He was upset and angry, so angry that he could do nothing to help his brother.

In the morning Sam woke up to the sound of heavy rain. It was rare in this time of the year. He flipped open his phone but there was not any new calls or messages from Dean. Sam closed the phone and pondered for a while.

Before realizing what he was doing, Sam was driving down the highway with a stolen car from the motel parking lot. He could only think of Dean’s high-pitched scream that came through the phone last night. He did not care what John would say about him popping up all of a sudden, violating his so-called rules. Screw him. He put Dean through all those pain. He did not deserve to make the call here. Sam sped up the car as his mind drifted to Dean again.

¶

Dean knew he was running a fever. He sat up a little on the bed and groaned when he pulled on his bound leg. He rested his head on the headboard and sighed heavily. This did not look good, not at all. Reaching over to the bed stand, Dean grabbed two painkillers and downed them.

He heard a car stopping outside his room, thinking that must be John. He hoped he could at least get to the hospital to do a check-up instead of rotting in here with pain and a high fever. Dean was about to greet his father when the person who burst through the door was his little brother. For one second he thought he was delirious.

“S-Sammy—?” Dean’s voice was so coarse that he almost could not recognize it himself.

“Holy shit, Dean!” Sam dashed to Dean’s side at once and placed his hand on Dean’s cheek. He could feel the abnormal heat radiating and slick cold sweat as he ran the other hand through Dean’s hair. He bit his lower lip and clenched his jaw even more when he saw Dean’s leg. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Wait, Sam!” Dean shook his head, trying to focus on Sam’s voice though his vision was getting blurry. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them in the next second, “You—you can’t be here—Dad—”

“Screw Dad!” Sam yelled and that almost sounded like a bomb going off right beside Dean’s ear. “Where is he now that you are hurt this bad? Huh? I don’t care what he has to say you need medical attention right now!”

Dean groaned in pain as Sam threw his arm on his shoulder. He could not fight Sam in this condition. But then they both froze at the spot when they heard the stone cold voice coming from the door. “Where do you two think you are going?”

Sam glared at John and said sternly, “I am taking Dean to the hospital.”

“No. If he needs to go anywhere, I will take him.” John walked into the room and pulled Dean away from Sam, pushing him back onto the bed. Dean moaned painfully.

“Dean!” Sam scooted to Dean’s side at once, holding him up and laying his head on his chest. Sam can feel Dean’s body temperature was even higher and his breathing pattern was swallower and heavier than before.

“Why are you doing this to Dean? He’s running a fever!” Sam’s tears were swimming in his eyes.

“Get out!” John growled loudly, “Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves? Do you want me to break your leg too?”

Sam’s eyes widened, “W-What? You did this to him?” His lips trembled in rage so strong that he could only see red. “What the fuck is wrong with you? He is your son! We are your sons!”

John took a step closer, towering Sam, “MY—SONS—won’t fuck each other!”

Sam went pale as all the blood left his face instantly. He was shaking so terribly he could no longer form words. John knew. That was why Dean tried to keep his distance these days. That was why Dean tried to push Sam away, hoping Sam could pick up the hints but he was too stubborn to realize those as warnings. When Dean knew he has failed to make Sam understand, he took the punishment alone. John found out about them and Dean—Dean was trying to protect him.

“Now you know how to shut up.” John scoffed, still glaring at Sam angrily, “I tried to teach Dean a lesson, but he wouldn’t cave. So don’t you fucking push me, Sam. I will treat you the same even though you are still young.”

John pushed away the dumbfounded Sam and flung the near unconscious Dean on his shoulder. Sam’s heart was shattering into pieces as he fell onto the ground. He was so helpless. How could he be so blind? How? He loved Dean so much but he could not see what was eating him inside even though they shared the same bed almost every night. He brought his knees to his chest and let his tears fall silently. John slammed the door behind him without even looking back.

 

≈≈≈≈≈≈

 

The warmth coming from Dean’s palm brings Sam back to the present. He leans into the touch of Dean on his cheek. Sam sighs, “Dean, I’m—”

“If you are gonna say you are sorry, cut the crap Sam. We are over that.” Dean looks at him sternly.

Sam looks away from Dean. He has always been a coward. He could not do anything for Dean when he most needed him, no matter it was in the past, or now. Sam gets up and sits next to Dean on the bed and leans on his shoulder.

He remembered the helplessness he felt when John took Dean away from him. He could not move. He could not get up and try to protect Dean. He frigging froze and did nothing.

He remembered spending days and nights by Dean’s side in the hospital. He kept telling Dean how sorry he was but he did not hold his hand. He felt like John was always there to remind him that they could not have what they desired the most, each other. And Dean, Dean always understood. Dean knew what Sam was scared of so he did not push Sam. He let Sam retrieve to his shell even though it almost cost him his leg to protect their relationship. Sam was so scared that he even turned his back on Dean.

He left Dean, for Stanford. He kept convincing himself that if he was gone, John would not be torturing Dean in all those ways and Dean could lead an easier life. But no, he did that for himself because he was a coward. He could stand up to John for his glorious principle but he could not stand up for their love. So he ran, shutting his heart away from Dean and Sam knew he broke him.

Locks of Sam’s hair fall to cover his face so Dean cannot see his expression now. Sam bites his lower lip. He is always the fucking coward. He ran again when Dean was in Purgatory. He found another life and he told himself that that was it. That was what he would settle for so when Dean came back he gave him all those crap, complaining about how Dean dragged him back to the deep shit like he was that twenty-one-year-old all over again. Sam cannot help but wraps his long arms around Dean. He is shaking. He wants to fix everything between them. He hates himself for letting Dean go through all the pain while claiming Dean to be the love of his life. Tears are now rolling down his cheeks, wetting Dean’s shirt.

Dean understands. He always has. He knows his little brother so well that no words are needed in moment like this. He really does not care what he went through in the past and may go through in the future as long as it is for Sam. His Sam. He was angry when he found out that Sam did not look for him while he was in Purgatory. But he also understands Sam has been through a lot, if not more, because of the life Dean brought him into. So since Stanford, Dean always prepares himself, knowing that one day there may be a chance that Sam truly turns his back on him, not looking back. And he will be okay with that. Even though that time has yet to come.

Shifting his position a little, he returns Sam’s hug. Slowly and gently he pushes Sam onto his mattress, placing soft kisses all over his tear soaked eyelashes, his nose, his flushed cheeks and his rosy lips. He can feel Sam relaxing under his touch and his kisses.

He presses their foreheads together as he pulls his lips away from Sam’s, “If you truly want to make things better, Sam. Ride me. Show me how much I mean to you. Show me how much you love me.”

Sam groans at Dean’s words. Without hesitation, Sam climbs on top of Dean, reversing their positions. He quickly loses both of their shirts and he kicks away his jeans. Sam is already half hard and his cock is twitching in his boxers. Dean reaches his hand into the drawer of the bed stand and pulls out a bottle of lube.

“Open yourself for me Sammy.” He pants heavily, seeing Sam naked and flushed is already so arousing to him.

Sam immediately pulls down his boxers and pours a generous amount of lube onto his palm. Leaning forward and pressing a hand onto the mattress to steady himself, he spreads his legs wider and brings his slicked palm to massage around his entrance.

“Dean…” He moans softly when he feels his rim contracting reflexively against his touch. Then he pushes one finger in. “Ughhh! Dean!” Sam grabs the mattress hard when he tries to get used to the intrusion. His cock is in his full hardness now.

“So fucking hot Sam.” Dean licks his lip as Sam moans louder, mumbling his name from time to time. He unzips his pants and frees his pulsing hard cock from the confinement. He picks up the lube that Sam throws on the pillow and slicks up his cock. He strokes himself slowly.

Sam is fingering his hole with three fingers now. But it is far from enough. He twists and angles his finger at different direction, trying to find his prostate. His moaning is nice and loud, just like he knows Dean will like it to be. “Dean…ahhh…I need you to be in me now—I’m so ready… Dean—!”

Dean grins slightly and pulls Sam’s hand away from his hole. Sam whines at the lost but he pushes himself up and quickly settles the position above Dean. He locks his eyes with Dean’s lust filled green eyes. Then he sinks onto Dean’s thick, pulsing cock in one go.

Both Winchesters moan loudly at the overwhelming sensation. Dean grabs Sam’s ass cheeks, “Move, Sammy.” He said through gritted teeth.

Sam sets a fast and steady rocking pace. “Dean—It feels so good… You are so big—fu—uck!” Sam throws his head back when Dean jerks his hips up, hitting right at Sam’s prostate. The tight and heat of burying balls deep within Sam is driving him crazy.

“Sammy… ughahhh!” Dean keeps pushing his hips up and drives deeper into Sam. He traces one arm up Sam’s chest and pinches his nipple. Sam’s hole reacts and clenches around his cock even tighter. “Shit—!” Dean groans and holds Sam’s hips with a bruising force and starts to thrust mercilessly.

Sam is falling apart on top of Dean. He pushes himself down to meet with Dean’s rough thrusts. His eyes are watering because of the pleasure but also because of all the passion and love Dean is conveying to him. So he does his best to synchronize with Dean’s rhythm, wanting to let him know that they are one, and will ever be.

Dean cannot hold back any more. He is slamming up to Sam more frantically as he feels his orgasm building. He snakes his fingers on Sam’s red hard cock and fist it. Sam yells at the pleasure, “Please! Dean! Let—let me come! Ahhhh—I need it Dean! DEAN!” And just like that Sam lets go, his orgasm hits like a freight train and makes his whole body shake at the force of it. He paints Dean’s torso with his seeds. Dean comes right after when Sam’s hole squeezes his cock. He rolls his head back and explodes, shooting spurt after spurt of come into Sam. Coming down from his high, Sam strokes his cock a few more times to finish it off. Then he pulls away and lies on Dean’s chest, still catching his breath.

Running his fingers through Sam’s hair, Dean sighs in relief and satisfaction. “Guess we find a way to deal with my knee pain.” He smiles faintly and kisses Sam’s forehead.

“I think a hot shower may help you more,” Sam says seriously. It is still a sore subject for him. He bites his lower lip.

“Hey, I was trying to be romantic,” Dean arches an eyebrow, hoping he can lighten the mood.

Sam huffs but the corners of his mouth croak slightly, “Well, nice try, Dean.”

Dean ruffles Sam’s hair like he was a little kid again, “You will hurt yourself thinking too much you know.” He can hear Sam sighing at his words.

“I just… I just want to make things right,” Sam says quietly.

“That’s where you get it wrong Sammy,” Dean looks down at Sam, “We are always right, no matter what. I won’t care about a lot of things if I need to, Sam, as long as I can still feel you in my arms, and you will still have me after all that happened.”

Sam’s eyes widen. Dean does what he always does best as a big brother. He evaporates Sam’s worry and concern in a wave of his hand. Sam swallows a few times before opening his mouth again.

“I think you really can be very romantic, big brother.”

 


End file.
